Because it aroused conflicting emotions in me.

As a child I was given a shiny new piggy bank to introduce me to the virtues of saving.

The little porcelain pig had a smiling face but I hated it with a passion because of the conflicting emotions it aroused in me.

You see, I knew I would have to smash it one day if I wanted to get at the coins.

I never smashed the silly little pig.  But the conflicting thoughts bothered me for quite a while. Though I didn’t make the connection at the time.

Years later I realized that it was somehow connected to the idea of a chicken having to break its shell in order to hatch.

Or about being required to “break the mould” if you wanted to reach a new level of expertise.

But why did something have to be broken?

Within the process of creativity is a strange duality of which we are not always aware. When we think of creativity we tend to conjure up pictures of artists with their paint-daubed palettes in full flight of inspiration.

We certainly don’t think of destruction or death. And yet the connection between creation and destruction is ever present as an immutable law of nature.

There is always an element of destruction in the process of creation. In order to produce a sculpture, a rock has to be removed from its natural place and then chiselled and carved to follow the desired shape in the sculptor’s mind.

To produce a polished gem the rough stone of a diamond has to be cut so that its facets can catch the light. Plantations of forest are cleared to make way for buildings; and trees are chopped down to make furniture.

Creation and Destruction

The entire universe is shot through with elements of creation and destruction, with making and breaking, with living and dying.

Even microscopic cells go through processes of birth and death. Civilizations evolve and decline and stars are created and destroyed.

And while the process of creation continues, the forces of destruction and the facilitators of decay are active everywhere.

Hyenas, vultures, crustaceans, worms and grubs are facilitators forging links in the chain of life and death. For in the continuous interaction between life and death the destruction of the old brings on the birth of the new.

For without destruction there would be no creation. Without death there would be no life. Together, creation and destruction form the complete picture of life in all its nobility and ephemeral beauty.

The colours of a sunset or the loveliness of a rainbow would be diminished if we thought they would last forever.

The fragility of a rose would not leave us with such feelings of poignancy if we thought that it would last forever. Its beauty is enriched by its evanescent moment in time; its loveliness enhanced because we know it will decay.

And so life itself acquires added meaning and poignancy because it flits on delicate wings like a dragonfly skimming the water on a summer’s day.

The Handwriting Connection

At first glance this seems to be far removed from handwriting and graphology. But on closer inspection we find that there is indeed a link.

The link of course lies in the connection with creation and destruction. Because in the context of graphology, analysis and dissection are elements of destruction.

We cannot analyse without breaking the whole into its component parts.

The handwriting sample has to be dissected piece by piece until it yields its intrinsic meaning.

And then having dissected the piece we can finally turn towards building and creating the full picture in the form of a personality report.

Let me know what you think about the connection between creation and destruction in the analysis of a handwriting sample.

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